


Bad at Love

by skywriter45



Category: Smosh
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywriter45/pseuds/skywriter45
Summary: For the record, none of it was Joven's fault.Or, a four times Joven didn't find The One, and the time he did.
Relationships: Wesley Johnson/Joshua Ovenshire
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Bad at Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Halsey song of the same name.   
> TW: Strong homophobic language in the first part (skip to after second line of stars), recreational drug use (Courtney's part, although it does have a brief mention the end).

For the record, none of it was Joven's fault. 

*************

Lasercorn was sweet--or maybe that was just the alcohol. Whatever. All that mattered was that he was hot and Joven was appropriately drunk, drunk enough that his brain wasn't freaking out about _kissing a boy_ , and his dick was just happy to be getting some action. It didn't matter that it wasn't even sweet anymore, just pure rum, (what kind of teenagers get drunk on rum?) but Joven really didn't mind as Lasercorn pushed him onto the bed and took off his letterman's jacket. Really. 

The tension was so thick the next day that even socially oblivious Joven, bless his heart, could feel it. Or maybe it was the nasty glares and whispers. What did he do now? Was this about the incident in gym? (It's not Joven's fault he's near blind, and the girls had promised not to tell). 

"Hey FAG!" 

Joven jumped about a foot in the air. Sohinki, captain of just about all the sports and then some, stood in front of him. And to the side of his posse, looking rightfully ashamed, was Lasercorn. Which meant one of two things. Either Lasercorn had admitted to what happened between them (unlikely, as he was still standing with the jocks, and not in a trashcan somewhere)...or he outed Joven and lied about his own involvement to save face. 

Joven wasn't sticking around long enough to find out. 

*************

Joven couldn't believe he even made it to college. But getting a boyfriend in college? A cute, smart, funny one? Impossible.

Yet somehow he found himself sitting at a dinner table across from a cute, smart, funny man he happened to be able to call his, wondering how the hell he got there. Damien was a hell of a catch. Shame he was so... _traditional_. 

"Hello! Joven! Anyone home?" Damien waved his hand in front of the other's face and smiled. 

Joven broke out of his stupor. "Uhhh...yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking about...umm..the future!"

His boyfriend's face lit up. "Really! Me too! You know how excited I am about medical school in Minnesota, and then I thought we could get a job, a house, settle down..." 

As Damien rambled about house prices in the Great Lakes Area, Joven tried to picture his life there. A house, a dog, maybe a couple kids...endless cold, a dead end job, and never being able to leave Minnesota. 

Yes, Damien was perfect--for some other guy. And he would find him, no doubt. 

Joven wouldn't be around when he did. 

*************

LA was everything Joven had ever dreamed of-hot, crowded, and magical-and so was Courtney. She was the first person he'd dated in quite some time (getting over Damien was an emotional journey). Luckily, she knew what she was doing. Love radiated from her onto and into everyone she met, and Joven was convinced that this time, he had met The One. 

Courtney also had a habit of partying, which Joven indulged for about a week before politely fucking off to stay at home. She didn't mind; it allowed her more time with her friends, and Joven trusted her not to do anything too stupid. 

Or he did trust her. Until the normal Courtney behaviour began to spiral out of control. Excitement became mania, spontaneity became erraticism, and the emotional openness that made Courtney so lovable in the first place became wild mood swings. Joven chose not to believe it.

Until it literally fell at his feet. It was a tiny baggie, filled with white powder that had fallen from behind her pillow. 

He flushed it, and wasn't around to see the aftermath. 

*************

Mari was the typical whirlwind romance abroad; gorgeous, emotionally unavailable, and looking for no strings attached. After the nightmare of his past three relationships, the idea of a friend with benefits was appealing to Joven. 

Alas, nothing is ever so simple. Slowly but surely, over romantic dinners and pub crawls, Joven found himself falling for her. And who wouldn't? Mari was everything he had ever wanted--except she lived three thousand miles away from where he had made a home. 

Joven tried to cling on to summer as long as possible, bit eventually summer London rain made way to fall London rain. When they kissed for the last time, there were no half hearted promises to keep in touch or never forget; they weren't that naive, not anymore. Joven just silently thanked whatever Universe Deity was up there that he had been able to stay as long as he had. 

He wasn't around to get the answer. 

*************

Nevada is hot as fuck, even in the winter. Joven and his shitty car are making their was across the country (couldn't afford a plane ticket). He's praying for something; a gas station, a tumbleweed, a fucking mirage-

-or that. A run down bar with a run down sign calling it the Watering Hole, ten miles outside Reno. That works. 

The bar tender seems to sense him coming, putting down a massive glass of water. Joven slides into a cracked leather stool, taking a grateful sip of the beverage (he ran out of his own about two hours ago) before burying his head in the cool steel. He can hear the smile in the bartender's voice. "Rough day?" 

Joven sighs. "You have no idea. I'm road tripping all the way to _fucking Minnesota_ for an ex's wedding. Then I get a phone call; it's another ex saying that she's clean now and wants to get coffee. _And then_ I get a text from a friend in London saying that she's coming to LA, so we should meet up. What am I supposed to say?" 

The man, who Joven now realizes has silver hair, slides a drink in front of him. "I don't know what you say to that. But I say...rum and coke. This one's on me."

Joven looks up to thank the guy, and is struck by how handsome he is. Tall, buff, with a little stubble. Sure, his hair is silver, but it suits him. "That means a lot. Thank you..."

"Wes." The other smiles, and Joven is suddenly a pile of butter melting in the desert sun. 

The drink is sweet, but refreshing, as it seems to have gotten about ten degrees hotter in the room. Is that sweat? Is Joven sweating? "Thank you, Wes. I'm Joven."

Their hands touch, and Joven feels electricity run through him, a sensation he hasn't felt since...well, ever. The other man appears to be feeling it, too, locking eyes with him. "Joven. I like that. Well, Joven, if you still need to talk, I get off in half an hour. If you want to stick around."

Joven looks into the pool of the Wes's eyes, and he can see the entire world and his entire future in a split second. "Yeah, I will. Stick around, I mean." 

And he does. 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading! Comments and kudos are fuel! <3


End file.
